


Quiet Time

by NotWhoYouThink131



Series: RDR Littles [1]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Daddy! Charles, Little! Arthur, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Set up for my series, diaper wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2020-11-10 19:16:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20856881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotWhoYouThink131/pseuds/NotWhoYouThink131
Summary: No one's heard from Arthur all day.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone! I guess I'm writing Red Dead fics now

No one’s heard from Arthur all day. This isn't exactly uncommon, but Charles finds it strange. Normally, at the very least, Arthur would drop by his cabin and tell him good morning, or wave to him from across camp at breakfast, but neither of those interactions happened today. Arthur didn't leave with anyone this morning, but he hasn't been out of his room either. Maybe he’s sick?

Charles waits until after dinner time to try to go to Arthur's cabin. He asks Hosea if Arthur came out and grabbed dinner, but Hosea says he hasn’t seen him. This causes Charles to worry that much more, and now he  _ has _ to go check on Arthur. He takes a plate of food and goes to Arthur’s cabin.

“Arthur?” Charles calls. No answer, but there is a scuffling inside; Arthur’s in there, moving around. But he doesn’t come to the door. “Arthur?” Charles repeats.

“Hang on!” Arthur calls. Another minute of shuffling around and the door swings open, Arthur staring at Charles with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

“No one’s seen you all day,” Charles says. “Got a little worried. I brought you some food.” He holds up the plate. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Arthur nods, taking the plate. He places it on his little table by the door, closing the door partially to block Charles’ view of the room. “I’m just tired.” He says. “Catching up on some sleep today.”

Charles nods, but can’t help but feel like Arthur isn’t being completely honest. Something about how he’s acting, almost like he’s hiding something. Charles tries to casually look over Arthur’s shoulder into the room, but Arthur quickly leans over to obscure his view.

“That it?” Arthur asks.

“Uh, yeah,” Charles grumbles. “I guess.”

“Cool.” Arthur slips back into the room quickly, closing the door in Charles’ face. Charles stands on the doorstep for a few more seconds, trying to think what Arthur could be hiding from him. Arthur, who he considers a close friend- Well, more like a friend with benefits- was hiding something from him. Their relationship is difficult to put a label on; they aren’t just platonic friends, there is something more romantic between them, but neither of them have commited to anything other than spending late nights together, grinding and making out. Charles is aware feelings are there, just unspoken out of wariness. They are both emotionally stunted men, and he knows they'll move on to the next step when they are ready.

Charles doesn’t knock on the door again and pry; he just walks away and goes back to his cabin, but he can’t help but think about it all night. What could Arthur possibly be hiding?

The next day, Arthur pretends like nothing out of the ordinary happened, going so far as to ignore everyone if they bring up his absence the day before. Eventually, everyone just stops bringing it up, but Charles is still curious. He doesn’t bring it up to Arthur to avoid upsetting him, but he keeps an eye on Arthur for a few days, trying to see a change in behavior. There isn’t one, and he eventually forgets what had him so suspicious.

The next time Arthur disappears for the day is a few weeks later, and Charles notices that no one talks about it this time, leaving him alone to investigate. This time, he was going to figure out what it was, and why Arthur felt the need to keep it a secret.

He doesn’t knock on Arthur’s door this time; Arthur seemed to hide whatever he was doing last time Charles announced his arrival. Instead, he goes around to the back and peeks into the window, standing on his toes to see into Arthur’s bedroom.

Through the window, all Charles can see is Arthur curled up under his covers, sleeping, and he wonders why Arthur was acting so strange if he really was just trying to catch up on some sleep. Then Charles sees something poking out of the blankets near Arthur’s face. He leans up farther on his toes to get a better look and does a couple of double takes to realize what it is. It’s a teddy bear.

Why would Arthur be sleeping with a teddy bear? Charles sees it’s a little brown bear with a blue pajama hat on it, and it looks kind of old, the hat faded a bit. Charles lowers himself back to his feet and walks back to the front of the cabin. He has so many questions for Arthur, but for now, he’ll let Arthur sleep.

Weeks go by and nothing comes of Charles’ endeavor until Arthur asks him to spend the night. This isn’t the first time Charles has stayed in his room; since they became romantically involved, he’d spend the night after they have a few drinks and end up sloppily making out until one of them fell asleep. Nobody in camp thought anything of it, they were both grown men and could do whatever they wanted.

While Arthur brushes his teeth in the bathroom, Charles sits on the edge of Arthur’s bed, looking around the room. While he’s sitting, he suddenly remembers the teddy bear, tucked under Arthur’s arm a few weeks ago.

“Hey, Arthur?”

“Charles?” Arthur says after spitting in the sink.

“Wanted to ask you something, but I don’t want you to get mad.”

“Okay?” Arthur comes into the bedroom, eyebrows raised. “What is it?”

“Um.” Charles pauses. He knows so many words, and can’t figure out the ones to say here.

“Um,” Arthur repeats. He knew Charles was a man of few words, but he normally wasn’t when he was around Arthur. Charles actually became quite the blabbermouth when they were away from camp.

Charles takes a breath and just decides to go along with whatever his brain supplied. “Why do you sleep with a teddy bear?”

Arthur’s eyebrows raise more. “Teddy bear?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t.”

“I saw you.”

“How?”

Charles winces and nods towards the back window, and Arthur follows his gaze, sighing softly. “You were just acting so weird, I wanted to make sure you were okay,” Charles says.

“Did you see anything else?” Arthur asks.

Charles shakes his head. “Was I supposed to?”

“No, but.” Arthur sighs again, swearing under his breath. “It’s so stupid.” He mumbles.

“What is?” Charles asks.

“You’re gonna think I’m some kind of freak or something,” Arthur says.

“I won’t,” Charles says.

“You don’t know that.”

“Well, let’s see who’s right.”

Arthur groans softly and gets up, getting on the floor and digging around under the bed. “Now,” He says. “Only you and one other person knows about this, and it  _ has _ to stay between us, okay? No matter what you think about it.”

“I understand,” Charles nods seriously. Arthur nods back slowly and pulls out a brown and blue duffel bag. Upon closer inspection, Charles can see it’s not just a normal bag, it’s- “A diaper bag?” Charles raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Arthur grunts. He opens a pocket on the bag and pulls out the teddy bear Charles saw the other day. Worn out, tannish fur, faded blue striped pajamas. “This the bear you saw?” He phrased it as a question, but it was more of a fact.

“Yes.” Charles leans over to see the rest of the content of the bag. On top he doesn’t see anything, just some cloth he assumed is a blanket, but in the side pocket, he can see two sippy cups- one blue and one clear- and a blue binky. The binky is far too big to be for a child, though, Charles notices. Suddenly everything clicks. “You use all this stuff?”

Arthur is looking down at his lap, still seated on the floor. “Yeah.”

“...Why?” Charles says.

“It’s got some big stupid fancy name online, I dunno what it’s really called,” Arthur says. “Most people normally just call it Little.”

“Little?”

“Yeah. Pretty much, whenever I get too stressed out, I like…” He gestures to the bag. “Actin’ like a baby.”

Charles nods. Arthur dares to peek up and see the man’s face, only to see him staring into his bag with great curiosity.

“When you say baby…?” Charles hums, reaching for the bag. “How old are we talking?”

“About 3 or 4 years old.” Arthur winces when Charles moves the blanket at the top of the bag, revealing some more toys and a small stack of adult-sized pull-ups. “It’s uh, it’s weird, I know, but-”

“Does it make you feel better?” Charles interrupts him.

“I mean, yeah,” Arthur says.

“Then I don’t really care if it’s weird.”

“Really?” Arthur blinks in surprise.

“Yeah,” Charles shrugs, “We all do our own thing to make us feel better. It’s not my place to rag on yours.”

Arthur nods slowly as Charles hands the bear back to him. He hastily shoves it back in the bag and shoves the bag back under the bed. “Like I said, you’re one of the only ones who know.”

“I wouldn’t dream of telling anyone,” Charles says. “I do have a favor to ask, though.”

“Hm?”

“Next time you feel like getting Little,” Charles says. “Come get me.”

“No,” Arthur says quickly.

“Why not?”

“I don’t want you to see me act like that.”

“But if you’re only 3 or 4, you shouldn’t be by yourself,” Charles says. “We don’t leave Jack alone.”

“That’s different,” Arthur groans.

“Not if you really feel 3 or 4.”

There is some silence, Charles watching Arthur and Arthur watching his lap, but Arthur finally mumbles “We’ll see.” And gets into bed. Charles lays next to him and the two fall asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Charles wakes up the next morning to see that the room is nearly dark, save for some light in the hallway casting a soft glow under the door. The curtains have been drawn and blinds closed, and Charles sees the outline of the diaper bag sitting on the bed in Arthur’s spot. When he sees the bag, Charles quickly gets up and looks around the room. Arthur isn’t in here, but Charles can hear the sound of the tv in the living room. He gets dressed before going out to Arthur’s living room, carrying the diaper bag at his side. Was Arthur really just going to let Charles see him little with no further prying? That was a relief, Charles thinks to himself, because it would’ve been impossible to convince Arthur any other way.

Charles holds back a gasp when he sees Arthur sitting on the couch. He has his eyes fixed on the tv, binky lying lazily on his lips and sippy cup on the couch full of chocolate milk. He’s wearing a large red t-shirt and a pull-up, little horse and cactus designs on the front.

“Good morning,” Charles says. Arthur doesn’t look up from the tv but throws a wave over his shoulder.

“Mornin’.” His voice is so soft and light, and Charles could almost squeal when he hears it. There’s something about the aura Arthur is emitting right now that makes Charles already crazy about this.

“You know,” Charles says as he sits next to Arthur on the couch, “you could’ve woken me up. I would’ve helped you get dressed or something.”

Arthur shakes his head. “Gotta be alone when I first get little. Feels silly with other people watchin.”

“Ah,” Charles hums, smiling a bit. He turns his attention to the tv “So, what’re we watching?”

“Spirit.” Arthur hums, pulling the binky out of his mouth. “It’s ‘bout horses.”

“I see,” Charles says. “You like horses?”

“Yeah,” Arthur smiles. “I like cowboy stuff.”

“I can tell,” Charles chuckles, gesturing to the designs on the pull-up. Arthur’s face flushes and Charles puts an arm around him. They finish the episode before Charles gets up, stretching and turning to walk away.

“Where’re you going?” Arthur holds onto Charles’ sleeve, his eyes wide and glossy.

“Well,” Charles says, taking the pacifier from where it had fallen on the couch and wiping it off. “You can't just have milk for breakfast. How about I make us some french toast?” He pops the binky into Arthur’s mouth.

Arthur’s eyes light up and he nods. “Mm-hm!”

“Good,” Charles chuckles. “Wanna come watch me make it, or do you wanna watch more tv?”

Arthur thinks for a second, brow furrowed before he takes Charles’ outstretched hand and follows him to the kitchen.

While Charles makes food, he watches Arthur. He’s sitting at the table, playing with his teddy bear. He swings his feet in his chair, and he’s smiling behind the binky. Charles has never seen Arthur like this before; this calm and bouncy and happy. Charles also found himself adapting to the new aura too, wanting to grab Arthur’s cheeks and pinch the, tickle his sides, anything to hear the laughter again.

“So, who else knows about this?” Charles asks. “You said there was one other.”

“Hosea,” Arthur mumbles, spitting the binky out onto the table “He buys all my stuff.”

“How does he know about it?” Charles asks.

“Can’t say,” Arthur says “Secret.”

“I see,” Charles says, chuckling. He sets a plate of food down in front of Arthur and refills his sippy cup. “Here you go, baby.” He makes a mental note to talk to Hosea in private later as he sets down with his own plate.

Arthur squeals and quickly covers his mouth, his ears quickly turning red in embarrassment. Charles thinks Arthur is so cute when he blushes, his ears get all red and then the blood travels across his face. Charles chuckles and pets Arthur’s hair as they both dig into their food.

Once the meal is done, Arthur runs back to watch tv while Charles cleans up the kitchen. There was more than just the breakfast dishes piled into the sink; Arthur rarely ever did his own dishes, so Charles always helped do them when he stayed over. He can hear Arthur in the other room, giggling to himself as the show goes on. Charles cannot believe Arthur has hidden this from him; he’s having a blast. He’s glad Arthur is, too.

After a few more minutes, Arthur’s laughter dies down, leaving only the tv talking with no answering giggles. Charles finishes putting the dishes away and heads to the living room to see Arthur sitting on the couch with his face buried into a pillow, shoulders shaking. Charles’ chest tightens as he steps closer. “Arthur…? What’s wrong?”

Arthur shakes his head, letting out a quiet sob. He scoots away when Charles approaches him further, and Charles sees a wet patch on the couch where he had been sitting.

“Oh, Arthur…” Charles frowns. Arthur quickly tries to cover the patch with the pillow, exposing his tear-stained face, and Charles notices the designs on his pull-up have faded away. “Hey, hey,” Charles easily grabs Arthur’s arms to steady him and pulls him closer as the boy starts crying harder. “You’re okay.”

“I-I didn’t mean to!” Arthur sputters, nearly gagging over his words. “I was gonna get up and go when the show was over-!”

“Arthur,” Charles grabs his arms more firmly to steady him. “You’re okay, accidents happen. Let’s just get you cleaned up and calm you down.”

“I was doin’ so good.” Arthur whimpers, defeated. “I-I went like, forever without having an accident.”

“Well, having me here to take care of you probably excited you,” Charles says. “It’s okay, though, you don’t have to be upset. It’s just a little accident.”

Arthur nods, not really believing him. Charles grabs a new pull-up from the diaper bag and leads Arthur back to the room. He takes the boy to the bathroom adjacent to the room, helping him strip from his soggy pull-up. Piss leaks from the pull-up as it moves, leaving little dime-sized droplets on the tile floor as Charles throws it away.

“If you had to pee so much, Arthur, you should’ve said something,” Charles says, rubbing his back assuringly.

“It wasn’t even that much,” Arthur grumbles, looking down. “Pull-ups just can’t hold that much.” Charles starts running a bath, and Arthur squirms, feeling gross and exposed as urine starts cooling and drying on his skin.

“Well,” Charles hums, petting Arthur’s hair as he waits for the bath to fill. “Now I’ll remember you need potty breaks after breakfast. You won’t have any more accidents.”

Arthur smiles half-heartedly as Charles guides him into the tub. The water is super hot- Charles never realizes what he thinks is a normal temperature for water is nearly boiling for Arthur- but Arther relaxes into the heat the best he can. Charles hums softly to him while he starts washing Arthur’s hair.

“You got any bath toys?” Charles asks. Arthur shakes his head. “We’ll have to get you some.”

“You don’t gotta,” Arthur says softly. “I don’t wanna get more stuff than my bag can hold.”

“Well, you can’t just have a binky and some pull-ups, that’s no fun. What are you gonna play with?”

“I also got my naptime teddy and blanket and my sippy cups.” Arthur mewls softly as Charles starts washing out the shampoo.

“Well, maybe you need a bit more,” Charles says.

“No.” Arthur hums. He says it so plainly, like it’s the end of the discussion, and Charles just drops it for now. He’ll talk to Arthur once he’s not little anymore, Arthur will probably be so flustered talking about this kind of stuff he’ll just agree to whatever Charles says just to get him to shut up.

Arthur finishes his bath and gets wrapped up in a towel, looking up at Charles dreamily. Charles’ features, usually expressionless, are softer as he watches Arthur, a small smile glued to his face. He seems so different when he’s taking care of Arthur. But, Arthur supposes, he’s also very different. The best thing about being little, he doesn’t have to worry about running errands with everyone around camp or doing chores or even talking to people, he can just sit in his room and play with his teddy and take naps.

Charles leads Arthur back to the living room and sets Arthur on the couch, changing the channel to some nature documentary about baby wolves as he finds a towel to cover the wet patch. He changed the channel for two reasons: One, he liked watching Spirit, but he’s found himself tired of watching it after 2 episodes. Two, Arthur really likes watching nature documentaries. He finds the narrator’s voice relaxing whenever he’s trying to draw, which is what Charles is going to try to get him to do now. He grabs a notebook and some of Arthur’s colored pencils from the art supplies in his desk and brings them to Arthur, sitting next to him on the couch “You want to draw something for me, sweetheart?”

“Draw!” Arthur squeals. “Draw, draw, draw!” He nearly snatches a red colored pencil off the table and begins working, brows furrowed in concentration. When the drawing is finished, he holds it up for Charles to see, and Charles smiles at the red scribbles all over the page, making the faintest shape of a fox.

“Wow,” Charles smiles. “I like it. Can I keep it?”

“Yeah!” Arthur sets it on the couch next to Charles and takes another piece of paper and a green pencil and gets to work.

Charles turns his attention to the tv, letting Arthur work without eyes watching him. The narrator describes something about the wolves’ behavior as a part of the pack, but Charles misses what the entirety of it because, just as quick as he tuned in, he starts dozing off. The narrator’s voice is soothing enough to put someone to sleep, he couldn’t argue with that.

When Charles finds himself half-awake later, there is a weight on his lap and the documentary has ended, the tv now playing some show about lizards. He glances down to see Arthur laying down with his head in Charles’ lap, thumb in his mouth and teddy bear under his arm. On the table in front of them, Charles sees an unfinished picture of some kind of animal laying in a green pile, presumably grass, and Arthur’s binky. Arthur is snoring softly, body moving slowly with each breath, and Charles’ hand finds a few stray strands of light brown hair to brush behind Arthur’s ear as they lay together.

They stay like this for nearly an hour, Charles in and out of sleep as he pets Arthur’s hair. Arthur relaxes into the touch, sighing softly in his sleep and pulling his teddy closer to his face. After a while, Charles gently leans over and grabs the binky from the table, careful not to wake Arthur up. He places the binky at the edge of Arthur’s lips, and Arthur gently parts his lips, accepting the item before snuggling back into Charles’ lap.

Charles knows he should let Arthur sleep too long, but he doesn’t have the heart to wake him up. He supposes a little sleep couldn’t hurt.


End file.
